Law of Syllogism
by Lucky Dice Kirby
Summary: ‹joshua&neku›‹gen› Glass is pretty, when you paint it red.


It's been about two weeks since you returned Neku and his friends to life, and you haven't once spoken to him in that time. You've been making it a point to watch him surreptitiously from afar, but you don't think you're quite on the top of his list of people to talk to. There's not really much you can do about that, at this point. He'll have to get over it eventually, and there's no reason it shouldn't be now.

You find him idling about in the local library, researching for a class project. Though the research was already long done, apparently, because you very much doubt that the online newspaper archives from thirty years ago have much to do with chemistry.

His headphones are around his neck. You wonder why he still bothers wearing them.

"Hello, Neku," you say from behind him, and it's almost comical the way he whirls around to face you.

"Oh, come now. Don't look so surprised. Did you really think I would leave my dear proxy all on his own?"

"You know," he says, "Most people don't expect ghosts to walk up behind them."

You narrow your eyes at him. "By the way, Neku, what is that you're reading?"

"Oh, just some old newspapers," he says, the smugness creeping into his voice around the edges. "It's pretty interesting."

Neku finds himself on the ground, though nobody pushed him. "Hey!" he says, pulling himself up, as you sit down in his seat with a flourish. He tries to kick you, but you make sure his foot never leaves the ground.

"Oops. Maybe you shouldn't go around sticking your nose where it doesn't belong, Neku."

You tab down the page, skimming it as you go. "Honestly, this is such rubbish, anyway. 'Due to enormous pressures from both his family and from schoolwork'? Where they get these silly ideas, I will never know."

"Glass from a chandelier, Joshua? That's kind of theatrical, don't you think?"

"How do you mean? Glass is really quite beautiful stained in blood."

"That's really creepy, actually. Don't you think a knife or something would've been, I dunno, easier?"

"I'm the Composer, Neku. I think it should be a given I wouldn't go with something so mundane."

"What's so mundane about slicing up your wrists?"

"What, thinking of following suit? I have to say, I'm flattered. Imitation _is_ the finest form of flattery."

"Like hell."

"Oh, that's too bad," you inform him, inspecting your nails, "Because it just so happens I have a bit of an employee shortage at the moment. And you'd make a fine Conductor, if I do say so myself."

"Thanks, but I think I'll take my chances with Sunshine's if I ever want a job. Probably has a lower chance of me getting shot."

"But Neku, I thought you cared about Shibuya. Without a Conductor, I'm afraid there could be some problems."

"Fuck you," he says, and stalks out. You give him a few minutes, before you appear next to him, innocently walking along the road. A girl sees you come out of nowhere, but she only blinks and rubs her eyes and says nothing.

Neku sighs. "Joshua, why wouldn't you tell me how you died, back when I asked you?"

You're a bit taken aback by him talking to you without being prompted, but you answer anyway. "Neku, I _did_ tell you. Obliquely, anyway."

"No you didn't. You wouldn't give me a straight answer. It would have been easier to tell the truth than to lie, you know."

"That's what oblique means, Neku. I told you I was in the game because I wanted to be. The only way to get into the game is by dying. Without knowing my real identity, it seems like me committing suicide ought to be an obvious conclusion to make. I suppose you're just not as bright as I'd imagined you were."

Neku ignores the jibe, and doesn't say anything for a long while. Then, "Why did you do it?"

"Because I could see that Shibuya was crumbling, and rotting, from the inside out. The current Composer was an old hack who didn't know what he was doing. I was the only one outside of the existing reapers who knew about it, and so I decided I should fix it."

"Big goal."

"And I did it, didn't I?"

Neku snorts. "Yeah. With my help. And Kitaniji's. You were about to give up on Shibuya."

"Exactly."

"Exactly what?"

"Why are you still mad at me? Killing you was necessary. Shibuya might not exist right now, if events had not gone on as they did."

"Joshua, you shot me. Twice."

"It was necessary."

"I don't care. Look, maybe I'll forgive you, someday. But not right now."

You run your hand through your hair. "Well, what will it take? I can give you anything you like, you know. Being the Composer is quite a useful thing. As would being the Conductor, I might add."

Neku eyes you, for a moment. "Stop being such an ass, for one."

"That's not very nice, Neku."

"And neither are you. Come have coffee with me, alright? Maybe I can give you some pointers."

You think it over, for a moment. "I suppose," you say.


End file.
